First Kiss
by tampoposensei
Summary: One shot. KakIru. Yaoi. Sweet and fluffy but slightly sad. Rated for sexual situation, but no action in this one.
1. Chapter 1

As always Kakashi and Iruka aren't mine. I asked but they turned me down.

First Kiss

"Iruka when was the first time you noticed me. I mean, looked at me and thought of me as more than just another crazy jounin."

The two men were tangled in post coital bliss, floating on a cloud of fuzzy-edged sated pleasure. Still pressed together as if trying to hold onto as much contact as possible between them.

"Mission room. The first time you came in after I started working there. I didn't know who you were until I saw the name on the scroll. Then I nearly fainted. God you were hot. I was in agony knowing that you'd only be there for a few minutes, but at the same time, I couldn't wait to watch you walk away."

Iruka hitched up the sheet around their shoulders. To block the breeze that was fluttering the curtains at the open window from their sweat dampened skin.

"You?"

"Same."

"Liar."

Kakashi rolled over so that Iruka was pinned under him. He licked the salt from the line of his scar. "What do you mean? Why would I lie?"

Iruka's lips pulled back into a grin and his body vibrated with silent laughter. "If that's all there was to it, you wouldn't have asked."

Kakashi kissed the tip of his nose and rolled off again. Lying flat on his back, limbs flopped on either side.

Iruka snuggled up to him. "Will you tell me?"

"Nothing to tell."

If Iruka didn't remember then maybe he was wrong. Maybe Iruka wasn't the boy. It was silly, it didn't matter.

So why had he asked?

The first time he'd seen him he'd been with his team, leaving the village for a mission near the border with Stone. They'd been passing the academy when a shriek of laughter had made him turn. He'd seen the bounce of a dark ponytail in the heavy summer air, and the flash of an impish grin. Then the boy had run off with the rest of his playmates. The boy wouldn't remember him of course. He hadn't even looked in his direction.

The second time he wouldn't remember him either. He'd been in his full ANBU uniform, waiting outside Sandaime's office. The boy had grown longer, and thinner, but was unmistakably the same. He'd smiled at him shyly, at the assassin under the mask. And his smile was warm and genuine, but with just the slightest undercurrent of defiance in it. Just enough for Kakashi to know that the reason he was waiting to see the Hokage wasn't a good one.

But the third time he should remember. He'd been on his way home from sparring with some of the other juonins, most of them at least twice his age. He was dirty and sweaty and had been looking forward to a long hot bath, but had been jolted from his mood of happy exhaustion by a noise. The sound of quiet, desperate sobs, coming from a house that he had thought abandoned after the kyuubi attack. The house was as poorly tended inside as out, but in the shadows of a dusty room he'd found a boy. The boy. His boy. Tucked in a corner, his back to the wall, with his head bowed into his drawn up knees, weeping.

Kakashi had crouched in front of him, then pulled him onto his lap and held him until he'd cried himself out. Letting him cry for both of them, to shed the tears of sorrow that for all his sorrows, he'd never been able to shed himself. Then, when the boy had choked out his last dry sob, he'd blotted his face with the cuffs of his shirt and kissed him.

It was a clumsy, awkward kiss, as all first kisses are. But filled with hunger for affection, need for loving contact with another human being, and the first stirrings of desire from their adolescent bodies. As they pulled away, the look the boy had given him had burned into his soul, branding him as his forever.

He'd stopped at the house, entering and searching it many times after that, but had never seen the boy again. Had it been Iruka? If only he could remember the scar. But in the images in his memory, the boy's eyes burned too brightly and his sweet face and shining hair were to distracting for anything so insignificant to show through. A village of ninja's is full of scars.

Was the boy who'd stolen his heart the same person as the man who held it now? Well, in the end it didn't matter, he knew that in his mind they'd become one and the same long ago.

"So Iruka, when was your first kiss?"


	2. Chapter 2

Iruka closed his eyes and thought hard. What had brought this on? Why was Kakashi suddenly asking about his first kiss?

He'd been playing in the schoolyard with his friends, in the happy days, long before the kyuubi had wrought destruction on all their lives. They were running and chasing as little kids always have and always will. Not caring a hoot for the scorching sun or the humidity that will wilt an adult, sipping iced tea in the shade. And suddenly he'd felt something, a fluttering, like a butterfly trapped in his heart. Anko must have noticed, because she'd chosen just that moment to plant a wet slobbery kiss on his lips. The feeling had vanished, instantly, destroyed by toxic girl cooties.

"My first kiss? That would have been Anko, when I was about six. Of course she kissed all the boys, just to gross us out. …She still does kiss all the boys, come to think of it."

Iruka felt a velvet breath on his cheek and the butterfly touch of lips. "I don't mean a kiddie kiss. Your first real kiss."

Ah. That was a less comfortable memory, with a different, but at the time much sweeter, poison.

"Mizuki. On my fourteenth birthday. He trapped me up in a tree and wouldn't let me down until I gave him a birthday kiss."

Kakashi felt a dark shadow closing in. Mizuki. It wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. "You're sure there was no one before that?"

"Of course I'm sure. You think I went around kissing so many people that I lost track?"

Iruka paused, letting his mind drift back, refusing to let it balk at the uncomfortable places he knew were still there.

"Although there was someone I wanted to kiss, but he was ANBU, or maybe it was a she. No… I know it was a he. I don't remember where or when, but I know I wanted to grab that mask, pull it off and kiss the person underneath. It would have been a good prank. Suicidal… but good."

He brushed the back of his hand against Kakashi's cheek. "Or maybe I just have a thing for masks."

The soft pitter-pat of water on glass announced the arrival of the summer storm. Kakashi slid from the bed and Iruka watched the shadows on his pale skin, rippling and changing with the flex of his muscles, as he walked over to the window and pulled down the sash. The man's beauty was daunting, frightening, but to him it was just a dim reflection of the far more beautiful and precious person within.

He smiled as another memory stirred. There had been one other kiss, sort of.

It had been a low point in his life, the lowest. He'd been in trouble everyday. Twice on some days. He'd told himself that he didn't care, and he'd believed it. But when he found himself in his old house, in his old room, covered in dust and spiders… he had cared, desperately, wretchedly. And his loss, his pain, and his misery had come pouring out.

He'd sat on the bare floor and cried. For his parents, for himself, for the shinobi that he'd once wanted to be but now never would, because he'd screwed everything up so badly. But most of all for his need for someone to notice him and to offer him even the tiniest crumb of real affection.

And then it had happened. As he wept he'd felt himself pulled into a warm embrace, with impossibly strong arms folded around him, and he'd looked through the blur of his tears to see a magical creature. A spirit surrounded by a halo of silver light. And he had felt the connection between them, known that this wonderful visitor understood his sadness, shared it, and would let him unburden himself onto it. Soaking up his sorrow as it blotted up his tears

Then, when he had cried himself out and was limp and numb, it had pressed its perfect face against his and kissed him. A real kiss, tentative, maybe even clumsy, as if the spirit wasn't sure how to kiss a human boy, but full of tenderness and perhaps even love. It had made him feel lovable again. And more. The spirit had kindled something inside him. A spark that made him warm in places where he wasn't used to feeling warmth, and others where he'd grown icy cold. And the butterfly was back in his heart, beating its wings in such a frenzy that in no time it had fanned the spark into a flame.

That flame was still there, it had never left him. It had been the very flame that Kakashi's love had fuelled into a fire.

Of course he knew it was only a dream, the fevered imaginings of his overwrought mind. But even so, just thinking about it still had the power to make him glow.

He felt a dark disturbance in Kakashi's aura, as he slipped back into bed beside him, and he realised that his lover was scowling at him.

"Iruka! You aren't thinking about Mizuki are you?"

"Hell no!" Iruka cuffed him playfully. "That's for even considering such a thing."

He let the glow spread over him, arching his back and stretching so that it flowed all the way into his toes and his fingertips.

"If you must know there was one other kiss, except it doesn't count. I mean it wasn't real. It was just the hallucination of a kiss."

Kakashi's frown turned into a toothy grin. "You hallucinated kisses? And they say I'm crazy."

He sat up on the bed, cross-legged, in his best kindergartner waiting for the teacher to tell a story impression. Except that kindergartners were rarely quite so naked. "I've gotta hear this."

Iruka snorted and rested his head in his lap, staring up into his face and deliberately draping him in an apron of black hair.

"It's really silly, you'll think I'm an idiot."

Kakashi folded his way too flexible body to place a soft peck on his lips. "Try me."

"Well ok, if you insist. It was a little while after my parents died, and I was in my old house and I was crying… "


End file.
